


Giddy Up Jingle Horse

by InuShiek



Series: Equus [3]
Category: MTMTE - Fandom, Transformers
Genre: Bondage, Christmas, Forced Orgasm, Gag, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Partners, NSFW, Pony Play, Public Sex, Riding Crops, Sex Toys, Slash, Spanking, Sticky, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-03 15:13:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2855387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InuShiek/pseuds/InuShiek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas seems like as good of an excuse as any for Rodimus Prime to be a pony for some of the crew. Luckily, Ultrra Magnus knows of a great way to make it festive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Giddy Up

**Author's Note:**

> I REGRET NOTHING!!!!
> 
> NOTHING
> 
> By the way, I forgot to link to [the ask](http://inushiek.tumblr.com/post/104988985588/ok-so-maybe-someone-has-already-said-this-but) that I based this off of (AND FULLY INTEND TO WRITE THE SECOND HALF OF)

Rodimus wakes up early.

He’d had trouble actually shutting down the night before he’d been so excited.

Ultra Magnus had suggested an interesting way to celebrate Christmas, and Rodimus had been as eager as ever to try it.

So the pair had visited Ratchet yesterday afternoon and had Rodimus’s pedes altered so he was forced to remain on his toecaps. The medic had been curious as to what they had planned, but Rodimus wanted it to be a surprise.

Once modified, Ultra Magnus had walked the Prime back to their quarters, and had told Rodimus to recharge- he’d need the rest.

Rodimus had all but squirmed in anticipation, a wide grin splitting his faceplates. Still, he knew Magnus was right, so he’d laid down and attempted to cycle his systems down for some rest while the larger mech left once again to get everything ready elsewhere in the ship.

Now wide awake and nearly giddy with excitement, Rodimus Prime slips out of Ultra Magnus’s grip and off of the berth. If he can’t recharge at least as late at the blue mech, then he can at least be productive. Rodimus knows that Ultra Magnus will want to spend lots of time cleaning him up so that he looks his best- time that he could be spending as a pony!

Determined to minimize wasted time, Rodimus disappears into the wash racks and starts to thoroughly scrub himself clean. He makes sure to loosen every armor plate that he can and clean their edges carefully. Few things detract from your appearance like grimy seams, and it doesn’t matter how long you spent buffing yourself. With this in mind, the Prime systematically cleans himself to kill time until Ultra Magnus wakes.

It’s just when the red and gold mech finishes polishing his front that Magnus enters.

“You are up abnormally early,” he comments, more than a little surprised. Ultra Magnus has always been the earlier riser.

Rodimus Prime flashes him a grin over his shoulder. “Yeah, well I’m excited. C’mere and get my back.”

Ultra Magnus steps up and takes the cloth from the Prime. “Are you certain you are alright without having me there?” he asks as he begins buffing back plating. “I checked all of the security cameras and installed my own cameras in the blind areas so I will be able to see you at all times. I will come to you as quickly as possible if there is a problem, of course, but the fact remains.”

“Yeah I’m sure. I really don’t think anyone would do anything for you to come charging to my rescue anyway,” Rodimus says teasingly.

Ultra Magnus does not rise to the bait as he progresses further down Rodimus Prime’s frame. “Neither do I, but it is a possibility. The route that I have chosen takes you past my office and past the medbay as well, so that Ratchet or I will be as close as we can be without actually following you.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll have my comms, and I am still the Captain, even if I’m hauling a cart.”

“Sleigh,” Ultra Magnus corrects him as he moves to polish the backs of his legs.

“Same difference,” Rodimus repies cheekily

Ultra Magnus quickly finishes polishing the Prime and stands. “You know it isn’t. You’re lucky that I modified it with rollers beneath the runners. It would have been fun to watch you struggle to drag a true sleigh with all that excess friction.”

Rodimus impishly sticks his glossa out at Ultra Magnus. “I wouldn’t be able to move it even with a bot Drift’s size if it had flat runner grinding into the deck plating. Not very interesting.”

“You seem to underestimate my enjoyment of your struggles to be a good pony for the crew, Rodimus.”

That stops the Prime short of making another smart remark, with his interface equipment beginning to heat a little in interest. He didn’t know Ultra Magnus liked watching him struggle… That makes it even better. “ _C’mon_ let’s go!”

Ultra Magnus allows Rodimus to grab one of his servos and drag him to the middle of his own office. “Stay,” he orders before he leaves to retrieve the box containing the tack he’d made especially for the occasion. The box jingles, and he sees Rodimus quiver out of the corner of his optic.

Rodimus actually jumps up and down a couple of times when Magnus sets the box on the floor in front of him, and his engine revs when it’s opened and he sees his new tack for the first time. To avoid clashing or blending with his plating, Ultra Magnus had chosen a dark shade of green to go along with the holiday’s colors, and it’s set off with black trim. The entirety of his harness is covered in little brass bells, save for the areas where the bells would impede his movement.

First, Ultra Magnus straps Rodimus Prime’s forearms to his upper arms and puts the miss on his servos to render them useless. Then comes the harness.

This one, because it will actually be bearing weight and is not merely decorative, has more straps and thick padding in certain areas- especially around the Prime’s midriff. Ultra Magnus tightens it so that it will not easily slide around and chafe his plating. “How does that feel?” he asks. Normally he would make the judgement of comfort for himself, but, since he will not be nearby to easily adjust the harness if it becomes uncomfortable, Ultra Magnus wants to be sure the Prime is confident in the fit.

He flexes to the side, then bends forward and backward, and he blinks at how loud his over exaggerated movements cause the bells to be. “Feels great! Really nice and squishy even up over my shoulders,” Rodimus replies, beaming.

“Good,” Ultra Magnus says, satisfied. Reaching back down into the box, he retrieves the matching bridle with ornate blinders on it as well as very long reins so that they will reach all the way back to a bot in the sleigh. This doesn’t have bells on it, even though they would have looked nice.

Rodimus opens his mouth for the bit, and he tries to hide his disappointment at it not being a curb with a port on it. Bits with port feel so amazing as they press on the roof of his mouth and force him to either slow or, at the very least, flex his neck. Unfortunately, they have the potential to cause damage if not used by an experienced mech, so they’re unsuitable for public ventures like this.

Rather unexpectedly, Ultra Magnus also has a new posture collar for him. It will keep the pony from being able to easily turn his head and, when combined with the blinders, will effectively limit his field of view to what is directly in front of him.

Once it’s tightened properly, Ultra Magnus runs his servos over the smaller mech’s frame as a final check. Then, he gathers the reins in a servo and clicks at the pony to get him moving.

The Prime steps forward to follow, and is startled by just how loud his bells are with even the subtle movement associated with walking. When he hesitates, Ultra Magnus give a firm tug to his reins to force him to follow.

“I commed participating crew while I was tacking you up,” Ultra Magnus says only just loudly enough to be heard over the bells. “They know the route and that I will not be there, but that I will be watching. Do not hesitate to comm them with complaints, and me if they do not heed your words.”

“Of course. Thanks, Magnus,” Rodimus replies over a comm line, unable to reply aloud with the bit in his mouth.

The fact that he got an honest “thanks” from the Prime has Ultra Magnus believing that he will actually communicate if something is wrong. Satisfied, the mech continues to lead his pony down the hallway where the (slightly) modified sleigh awaits.

The jingling that accompanies his movement has Rodimus certain that he’s drawing the attention of every bot on the ship. Ultra Magnus doesn’t seem to mind the loud cacophony of his bells, but the pony is hyper-aware of them. The volume actually has him feeling self-conscious, and he starts to tell Ultra Magnus that he’s changed his mind, but then the round a corner, and the Prime’s optics land first on the sleigh, and then on the line that’s forming to take a ride.

Then he hears a collective gasp at the sight of him, and it’s all over. Rodimus’s spark surges in excitement, and he actually tries to pull Ultra Magnus forward. He only succeeds in pulling his head to the side as the slack in the reins disappears, but the message is clear.

Ultra Magnus surveys the line that includes Drift, Rung, Tailgate, Cyclonus, Skids, and Perceptor. Without increasing his pace, he leads the pony over to the sleigh. “You behave today,” he says quietly- almost softly- once the Prime is still and in position. Ultra Magnus attaches the sleigh, making sure that the weight is evenly distributed.

Once the sleigh is securely fastened to the pony, Ultra Magnus runs a digit across the front of his heated panel. “You have permission to open at anyone’s command today.”

Rodimus shivers in delight, and his bells broadcast his excitement to everyone in line. He stomps impatiently as the large blue mech throws his reins back over his shoulders and threads them through a holder on the sleigh. Without a word, Ultra Magnus nods once toward the mechs in line, and then he walks away in the direction of his office.

He tries to turn his helm far enough to look back at Drift, who Rodimus recalls was at the front of the line, but his collar and blinders make it impossible, and it merely leaves him off balance. When the mech hops into the sleigh’s seat, it jolts the pony, who has to scramble to regain his footing… Even if that footing is being balanced atop his toecaps per Ratchet’s modifications.

“Steady, boy,” Drift calls, taking ahold of the reins.

Rodimus hears a click, and he can feel that the sleigh is free from the brake now. Practically quivering, the pony eagerly awaits the signal to move forward.

Finally, it comes in the form of a click from Drift and a tap of a whip against his aft. Startled, Rodimus jolts forward. He hadn’t noticed the whip earlier, and he admits that it does make him a bit nervous. However, it had felt more like an extended crop rather than a driving whip, and he trusts Ultra Magnus not to give mechs access to an actual whip without him being present. Besides, crops feel great when they hit his plating, leaving a quick sting behind. Unlike a whip that can (and has) chipped paint off… Not that he’d _minded_ at the time all that much, seeing as it was Ultra Magnus…and he had been a very bad pony…

A harder tap of the long crop against his aft draws the pony from his thoughts, and he realizes that he had slowed down while recalling the whip. Rodimus heaves forward, pulling the sleigh to accelerate back to the speed Drift has chosen. Already, he finds his processors lulled by the rhythmic jingling as he works. He’s careful now to maintain the pace, which is made easier by the bells, but Rodimus again lets his mind wander.

He can feel his harness rubbing comfortably against his plating. It’s soft even though it’s brand new, and all of the bells shine brightly underneath the ship’s lightning. The pony hadn’t gotten a very good look before his collar had gone on, but he imagines that the green material contrasts nicely with his shade of red. Imagining what he must look like hauling a sleigh- all trussed up, bitted, leaning forward against the weight, and flexing to gain traction- has the pony’s frame heating beyond his control. His interface array makes itself known once more, but he resists the urge to open his panel.

Drift gently guides Rodimus to take them around another corner, and the pony obeys easily. The Prime finally pays attention to where they’re going, and he realizes that they are steadily winding their way toward the bar.

“Dressage with these bells would be interesting to hear….” Drift muses aloud to himself.

Rodimus revs his engine in wordless agreement. It would be loud, but pretty funny if you asked him. Drift clicks at him, and another tap of the crop against his aft has the pony dragging the sleigh along with him into a very jingly trot.

Brainstorm’s head appears through the bar’s doorway. “What in the _Pit_ is making all that noise- Oh. Can’t a mech have a peaceful drink on this ship? Just once?” he complains loudly enough to be clearly heard over the pony’s bells.

Drift gently pulls back on the reins as he eases onto the sleigh’s brakes, slowing Rodimus down until they’ve come to a halt. “Whatsa matter, Brainstorm? You wanna take a sleigh ride?” Drift asks.

“I _want_ to enjoy this weird holiday by being overcharged in peace.”

“I was hoping the route would take you past here!!” Swerve greets happily as he squeezes out the door past Brainstorm. “Wait here.” The bot disappears back into his bar after Brainstorm takes a large gulp of his high grade before retreating.

Rodimus, having been unable to see any of this, can hear the sleigh’s brakes being locked into place. The whole thing rocks slightly, and the pony assumes that Drift has stepped down. This is confirmed when he can hear the mech approach.

“Do you think he’ll bring you a treat?” Drift asks the pony while delivering a teasing rub to his aft. “I bet he will. Swerve loves it when he gets to see you.”

The pony shifts from one pede to the other eagerly both at the prospect of maybe receiving a treat and also at Drift’s continued touches, which are slowly going from quick pats to long strokes. Rodimus helpfully spreads his legs, and his faceplates heat up when the movement sets his bells off once more, drawing a chuckle from Drift.

“Good boy,” the mech praises with a pat on the Prime’s side. “Now, I only want you to open up your lower panel. No spike.”

Rodimus obeys immediately, and he cries out in gratitude when one of Drift’s touches his heated valve. He tries to turn his helm so he can actually see the mech, but his reins are quickly snatched in Drift’s other servo to hold his helm in place. To ground himself, the pony bites down on the bit and tries to hold still as the mech abandons his valve.

“I think I might have a different kind of treat for you,” Drift murmurs.

Confused, the pony shifts eagerly at the small sound of the mech’s subspace being accessed.

With a squeak, Rodimus jolts in surprise, setting off his bells again, when something smooth and cool presses into his valve. He quickly realizes it’s a vibrator, and his engine revs sharply in approval.

“Oooooh what a lucky pony,” Swerve says excitedly when he realizes what he’s returned in time to see.

Rodimus still can’t see either mech, but he doesn’t fight Drift’s hold on the reins.

“Yes he is. Close up, boy,” Drift orders, pleased that the pony doesn’t hesitate to close his panel and trap the toy within himself. He eases his grip on the reins to give the pony his head back.

Swerve finally steps into the pony’s field of vision, a smile on his faceplates. He lifts his upturned palm with a sweet energon treat balanced on it for Rodimus’s viewing. “I guess I’ll have to find another pony to give this to-“

Rodimus quickly leans over to pluck the candy from Swerve’s palm with his dermas, and he tosses his head back so that it can fall onto his glossa. Swerve laughs and pats the pony on the flank. Humming in pleasure, the Prime revs his engine in gratitude for both the praise and the treat.

“We should get going, Swerve. We’ve got time to make up for. I bet it wouldn’t be hard to get the other bots to make a stop here though if you wanted.”

“I’ll at least poke my head out to watch. I _love_ watching a lithe little pony work.”

Rodimus quivers, and his bells broadcast it to the two mechs. His faceplates heat up as they laugh softly, and Swerve gives his aft a pat.

“I’ve got to get back inside. See you around, Drift!”

Drift gives a friendly wave farewell as he approaches the sleigh and climbs back into the seat. “Alright, let’s go, boy,” he says, releasing the brake before he picks the extended crop back up. With a click, he taps the crop against the pony’s aft, and they’re in motion once again. His mischievous chuckle is masked by the jingling bells, so Rodimus has no warning when Drift activates the vibrator.

The pony startles, nearly losing his footing when the toy assaults his valve’s sensors in the best way.

“Easy there,” Drift calls to the pony. “Come on, we’ve got lost time to make up for.”

Rodimus obeys the signals for a faster pace, and Drift drives him into a trot, apparently uncaring that he’s already about to overload. The pony whines, beginning to curl forward as his charge grows. Drift makes a chastising noise at his posture, however, and pulls on the reins to straighten the pony. Rodimus slows at the pressure, deliberately disobeying Drift’s implied wishes so he can feel the crop on his aft again an-

Drift smacks the pony on the aft harder than any time previously, and the bound mech keens loudly, doubles over in overload, but never stops moving forward.

He does drop to a walk as his vents work overtime to cool his frame, but the pony forces himself to maintain at least a walk. Drift allows him time to collect himself, but never even lowers the level of the vibrations.

Eventually, the pony hears another set of clicks from Drift before the crop gently taps his aft. Despite his legs feeling wobbly- especially being forced up onto his toecaps- from his overload, Rodimus leans forward to haul the sleigh along with him into a trot. “Gooooood boy,” he hears from behind, and his spark swells in pride.

Rodimus is forced to let his mind wander, because, if he doesn’t, his processors will focus on the vibrator humming happily away in his valve and he’ll continue overloading. Instead, he lets the easy rhythm of the bells as he trots numb his thoughts, only really paying attention to the bit and his rhythm.

“Easy,” Drift finally calls, gently pulling back on the reins as he uses the sleigh’s brakes to help the pony stop. Rodimus had settled into the work nicely, and he looks lovely. He’s breathing heavily to help his vents cool his frame, quivering from the continued vibrations. Drift hops down and approaches Rodimus, winking at the mechs in line for the next ride. “Such a _good_ little pony. I’ve got something for you,” he says, and that’s all the warning the pony gets before the vibrations increase in strength.

With a squeal, Rodimus’s pedes slide farther apart in an attempt to make it easier to maintain his balance. An arm appears in front of him, and the pony takes it as permission to lean onto it as his charge continues to race through his circuits.

After several long moments, Drift helps the pony stand upright once more. “You two might wanna take it easy on him at first,” he warns Cyclonus and Tailgate.

Still wobbly, Rodimus notices for the first time that they’re back where they started, and every mech in the line is watching.

“Hey, Ultra Magnus?” the Prime comms. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Rodimus.”


	2. He's Exhausted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an entire day of pulling a sleigh, Rodimus is in need of some TLC.... Well, LC anyway.

By the time everyone has had their fill of sleigh rides, the pony is a mess.

Most recently, Cyclonus had had him trot the entire course, and Rodimus hasn’t managed to cool his frame yet. He’s still panting heavily, drooling on himself as he leans against the weight of the parked sleigh for some support. Tailgate had mercifully shut off the vibrator about half way through the ride, but not before the pony had left a clearly visible trail of lubricant on the floor. The pony had lost count of his overloads, and he’d begun to wonder if he’d be capable of standing (let alone pulling a sleigh with two mechs in it) if his charge peaked again.

Now that he’s stopped and Cyclonus has applied the brake, the pony is able to gather his wits. Rodimus had really fallen into a groove as he’d worked, and Perceptor, bless him, had been heavy servo’d with the crop and had given him a delicious sting on his aft for his processors to latch onto.

Finally, Rodimus has enough wits around him to slurp loudly and attempt to stem the flow of oral lubricant from around his bit. His entire front is streaked in it, and the insides of his legs are a mess thanks to his valve as well. In short: Rodimus is one messy pony.

A large servo gently pats him on the back, and the pony recognizes the pleased hum from Cyclonus. The purple mech and Tailgate are the only ones who stayed the entire day. Everyone else who had participated in the Christmas-y event had had their fill of taking turns around the track and moved on- most of them to Swerve’s bar. Rodimus leans into the touch, and Tailgate walks into his field of vision.

“Poor thing. He’s exhausted,” the minibot says, looking up at Cyclonus.

The purple mech huffs, “Are you surprised?”

“Well no, but still,” Tailgate responds simply as he begins unhitching the pony.

The next thing Rodimus knows, there is the sound of a heavy bot approaching, and he’s suddenly been scooped up by strong servos. He recognizes the distinct hum of Ultra Magnus’s engine before the mech speaks.

“I you don’t mind, I’ll be taking him to get him cleaned up. He has had an….eventful day.”

“Thanks for letting us have fun with him, Sir!” Tailgate pipes up cheerfully. “We’ll put the sleigh back for you.”

“We will?” Cyclonus deadpans, drawing a look from the blue minibot. “We will.”

With a grateful nod, Ultra Magnus turns to carry his exhausted and messy little pony back to his quarters.

Once they’re behind a locked door, the mech carries Rodimus into the washrack. Ultra Magnus carefully sets the pony on his pedes, and he makes sure that Rodimus has balanced on his toecaps before releasing him. He reaches for the crossties, and quickly has them clipped to either side of the pony’s bit.

“What a mess you are,” he says quietly as he begins loosening the pony’s harness. “But I am so proud of you. You did very well.”

Rodimus squirms happily, setting his bells off again.

Ultra Magnus pauses in thought. While Rodimus may be too tired to continue the heavier play, that doesn’t mean he can’t continue with something lighter…. Decision made, the large mech detaches two bells from the pony’s harness and transfers them to the bridle. Now he goes ahead and removes the long driving reins so they’re out of the way. He can attach a lead later to get the pony to the berth before finally removing the bridle, collar, and arm straps. They will have to wait until tomorrow to see Ratchet for resetting his pedes.

Rodimus stands patiently while his harness is harness is loudly removed, and he hears Ultra Magnus take it (and his reins) back into his office where the storage chest still sits. He knows that he’ll probably be the one to have to clean it later, but he doesn’t mind very much when Ultra Magnus comes back and slides a servo between his legs.

“Open,” he commands simply, and the pony obeys easily with a relieved sigh. Ultra Magnus is actually surprised by the amount of lubricant that spills to the floor, but he still catches the toy he’d leant to Drift. The pony tries to turn his helm to look back at him, and Ultra Magnus’s engine rumbles pleasantly when the two bells jingle loudly. He places the toy in a corner of the washrack for later cleaning. Now to wash his messy pony.

Holding still while he listens to Ultra Magnus readying the water, Rodimus realizes that his energy is slowly returning. No doubt he’ll be sore in the morning, but maybe, just maybe, he’ll be up for a little more fun before recharge…. After a nice hot scrub down, of course.

Hopeful that he’ll be up to one last overload before recharge, Rodimus Prime patiently stands when the larger mech points the spray at him. The hot water is soothing on his frame even if his vents have to whir to life, and the pony relaxes as his lubricants are washed from his frame.

Ultra Magnus has to avoid getting the remaining tack wet, but it’s not on any of the messy areas anyway. The blue mech lathers up a cloth before applying it to the pony’s chassis.

The pony’s engine idles pleasantly as Ultra Magnus methodically cleans his plating with small circles, and the gentle attention both lulls his processors nearly into a state of recharge even as his frame steadily heats with arousal.

In what seems like no time at all, Ultra Magnus gently pats the pony on the top of his helm, rousing him. “All clean,” he says quietly. The large mech clips a lead onto the Prime’s bit before he releases him from the crossties. With a click, Ultra Magnus turns the pony and leads him out of the washrack and to the berth. He’s surprised when Rodimus pointedly nuzzles his servo. “Yes, you did well today. Up.”

Rather than bask in the praise and obey, Rodimus lowers a shoulder and playfully attempts to push the much larger mech onto the berth. Ultra Magnus humors him by sitting on the berth and sliding back to give the pony room. Rodimus doesn’t hesitate to clamber up and sit astride the mech’s hips.

“You still have energy?” Ultra Magnus asks, and the pony could swear that it was almost a tease.

To retaliate, Rodimus grinds his valve against the mech’s panel, and he makes sure to arch gracefully while he’s at it. He bites down on the bit when he feels Ultra Magnus’s spike thud against his panel, and he revs his engine eagerly. And that is _absolutely_ a mischievous look in the blue mech’s optics.

“If you start and cannot finish, you know you’ll be punished before you will be allowed to overload, don’t you?”

Rather than making him nervous, Rodimus squirms happily at the challenge. Either he’ll get to ride Ultra Magnus’s spike until they overload, or his aft will be sore in the most deliciously stinging way before he gets to overload. The pony eagerly nods, and he receives a pat atop his spark before Ultra Magnus opens his panel for him. Without his servos to help him (and with the large blue mech watching him intently), the pony has to squirm creatively to line the large spike up with his valve.

Finally, with a victorious huff, Rodimus slowly and carefully sinks down onto Ultra Magnus. Vents heaving, the pony tosses his helm back when he has to pause and allow his valve a moment to adjust. His faceplates heat when the sudden movement sets the bells attached to his bridle ringing, reminding him of their presence. Relaxing, the pony steels himself before he works until he’s hilted Ultra Magnus’s spike within himself. A tug comes on the lead attached to his bit, and Rodimus lowers his helm until his optics meet the other mech’s.

Ultra Magnus briefly considers making Rodimus turn around, but he dismisses the idea. He would much rather watch the pony’s face heat with embarrassment as his bells jingle and he drools over himself again. Optics darkening in arousal, Ultra Magnus gives a small thrust upward. When Rodimus cries out at the sudden movement, he clicks twice. “Giddy up.”

Quivering eagerly, the pony gathers his legs beneath himself and slides upward.

It’s when he begins to slide down that Rodimus realizes he’s already doomed to failure. Rather than the controlled descent he’d planned, he’s forced to just drop down all at once as his legs fail him. The pony blushes as his bells ring harshly, and he bites down on his bit when he sees a knowing glint in Ultra Magnus’s optics. Well, that settles it.

Rodimus stubbornly forces his tired legs to carry him upwards again, and he doesn’t even attempt to drop slowly this time. The loud jingling is still embarrassing.

This time, Ultra Magnus pulls down on the pony’s reins to keep him from rising again. “If you can’t control your descent, you’ve already lost.”

Defiant, Rodimus jerks free. He manages to rise and fall slowly, but his legs tremble too badly to manage any more movement. Grudgingly, the pony admits defeat with a pitiful whine. He tries grinding against Ultra Magnus’s spike to alleviate the ache in his valve, but the blue mech’s large servos grasp his hips and force him to be still.

He squirms and purposefully clenches his valve when Ultra Magnus lifts him off of his spike, but he doesn’t complain as he’s flipped over and maneuvered to lie across the mech’s lap. He’d agreed to this, and Rodimus would be lying to himself if he denied that half of the lubricant trailing down his thighs was from anticipation.

Ultra Magnus rests one of his palms on the pony’s aft, reacquainting himself with the curve. Eventually, Rodimus wriggles to raise his aft and press it into the larger mech’s servo. With a rev from his engine as the pony’s only warning, Ultra Magnus rears back and strikes Rodimus Prime’s aft hard enough to make him yelp and his bells ring.

With a keen, Rodimus squeezes his thighs together briefly before he spreads his legs as well as he can across Ultra Magnus’s lap. The mech grants him a brief caress with a single digit across the opening of his valve, and the pony pants and squirms happily and tiredly.

“Such a good little tired pony.”


End file.
